For More
by Xian Chan
Summary: Maxxie finds that the ‘morning after’ has becoming quite a common occurrence between him and Tony. But why does this time feel different? TonyMaxxie. One-Shot.


**A/N:** First person to guess the inspiration for this gets a cookie. 

**Warnings: ****Written before Seasons 2,** about 8 months ago. Spoilers possible for Season 1.

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_Beautiful,_ Maxxie would always think.

It was the only word that would come to mind whenever he beheld the sight before him. Tony looked completely serene when he was asleep; when the sun poured through the parted curtains and onto his skin, making it glow ethereal. Maxxie would always want to touch him then. Run a finger down his cheek, to be certain that it was real. Because something so perfect could only be a dream. And every time, Maxxie was surprised that is _was_ real. Tony, in _his_ bed. 

Usually his bed. They would usually stumble back to Maxxie's house, because that was where they were safest from the world. Hardly anyone ever visited Maxxie's house. It was too out of the way. Close, but out of the way. 

Tony would always sleep longer than Maxxie. As if he knew that when he woke, it would end. 

Maxxie lay there wondering if this was the last time. He always wondered if it were the last time. He couldn't help it really. Why would Tony want him over Michelle? Maxxie was only a plaything, he knew it. And he let himself get played nonetheless because it was the only way Tony would ever be this close to him. Although Maxxie soon wouldn't be able to handle being so close yet so far from the thing he wanted most. 

How had it happened? Why did he let himself get so attached?

Without trying to rationalise anything anymore, Maxxie held onto the other boy tighter. He nestled his head into the crook of Tony's neck, taking in the scent of dry sweat, and musk, and sex, and Tony. He felt slow, even breaths drift over his hair which tickled somewhat. Not enough to move though. 

Sometimes Maxxie wished that he could stay that way forever. His naked body pressed up against Tony's, both of them breathing as one, radiating heat into one another, Maxxie being awed into silence at how well their bodies fit together. 

It was so cliché. The birds were actually singing. 

It was all too much. Maxxie couldn't help placing his lips against Tony's. It was setup so perfectly, why would he pass up the chance?

"Wake up Tony," he whispered into pouty lips. "It's morning."

"It is not morning," Tony replied. He pulled the covers over both their heads which didn't really do much to block out the light pouring into the room. Only dulled it a bit. 

"It _is_ morning," Maxxie kissed the boy's collarbone, relishing the softness of his skin. "The sun is shining."

"It's not the sun," Tony stated. "It is only a very bright moon."

Maxxie laughed lightly. He snuggled further into Tony's body. "The birds are singing."

"It's a nightingale."

"Tony, there aren't any nightingales in Bristol," Maxxie told him plainly. 

"How would you know? You've only lived here a short while."

"A year and a half."

"Versus my seventeen years."

"Twat," Maxxie quipped, running his fingers up and down the deep of Tony's back. "You have to go or Michelle will kill you. You promised her you would be at the mall at ten."

"Let her kill me. I'd rather stay here," the boy commented excited suddenly, rolling Maxxie on his back and pinning the boy down by sitting on his abdomen. It all looked strange while they were still under the covers. This was their world and no one could ever penetrate the thin sheets and duvet. At least that's how it felt. 

Tony leaned down and captured Maxxie in a slow, passionate kiss. 

Maxxie wrapped his arms around Tony's neck, pulling him down. Forgetting that Michelle was probably waiting for her boyfriend at the entrance of the mall. "Fine, stay. It's all the same to me," he said. 

"Maybe I _should_ go," Tony smirked. "I shouldn't really keep Michelle waiting. She went off on me last time."

Maxxie hated when Tony started his little games. It usually happened ten minutes after he woke up, like his manipulation system realised that its host was awake and kicked in to start a brand new day of controlling others. Tony would try to make Maxxie jealous. He would always mention Michelle, talk about all the things they did together, when they argued, when they had sex. Maxxie knew as much about their relationship as the two involved. 

The truth was, Maxxie was already jealous. Tony needn't try at all. The mere mention of Michelle's name made him tense up sometimes. 

"You love her. I don't see why you can't stand to at least be on time."

"I suppose," Tony was still smirking. It peeved Maxxie a bit. 

"Pathological liar."

It was kind of a random thing to say but it somehow fit perfectly. Maxxie asked himself many a time whether or not Tony would stop lying to both him and Michelle and finally admit that he cared for neither of them. That they were only playthings.

"Pessimist," Tony shot back.

"How does that make sense," questioned Maxxie, knowing exactly what it meant, and knowing that _Tony_ knew that _he_ knew exactly what it meant.

Tony shrugged and threw the covers off of them. "You figure it out. I have to go."

Maxxie growled in frustration. What did he expect? The only time Maxxie would get a straight answer from Tony Stonem would be when Jal gave up her clarinet to follow her father's footsteps and become a rapper. "Fuck you and your roundabout answers, Tony," Maxxie muttered.

The dark haired boy sat up and looked back at him. He smiled as he stood up, looking for his trousers and shirt. He didn't bother trying to find his boxers. They were probably buried in the sheets somewhere, and he was only walking home to take a shower and change anyway. 

When he found his trousers, after a few minutes of searching, Tony slipped them on. He grabbed his shirt, which was hanging off the lamp on Maxxie's bedside table. Maxxie had a penchant for throwing Tony's clothes in any direction once he ripped them off. He jumped back into the blonde's bed, laying on his side and smiling at the boy, who was casually ignoring him. 

"I don't have to go home and change if you want."

"Why would I care," Maxxie turned his back to Tony, lying on his side as well. 

"Do you really think I would spend my Saturday afternoon shopping with Michelle? Michelle drafted Jal for that mission."

Maxxie pretended not to hear. Tony was lying, again. 

"Don't believe me then," Tony said as he edged over to Maxxie and pulled the boy closer. "But I actually intended to drag you to the cinema, so we could make out in the back row of the theatre to a shockingly cheesy film."

Maxxie rolled is eyes. "I'd rather stay in bed."

Tony smirked again. He tugged off his trousers and threw them aside. "Then I guess we're staying in bed." He got under the covers and pulled the shorter boy flush against him with little resistance. 

"I hate you, you know that?"

"Stop lying," Tony reprimanded. "It's morally corrupt."

Maxxie rolled his eyes again, letting Tony spoon him and letting himself drift back to sleep. He didn't think he would ever be able to fully understand Tony. It didn't really matter because he knew one thing. Tony wouldn't stop coming back for more.


End file.
